CHAPTER SEVEN

Astoria, Estranged

It was over, Ron was right it was a trap, Harry thought in the split second he had - unable to react. Yet, Harry continued to think. He slowly opened his eyes to see that Ron was also cowered in fear. The screaming continued, the woman in the white dress still shouting "Avada Kadavra!" over and over again until her voice finally failed her and she dropped the wand like it was it a simple stick of wood. Crying, her arm flopped down and through her tear-stained eyes she looked - with a sickening curiosity - at her hands. It wasn't until Harry had collected himself that he realised that he was looking at Astoria Malfoy. Ron, paralysed by fear, simply said - in an almost breathless whisper - "What the... HELL?" Harry moved, with some caution, towards the shaking shape that was Astoria, holding out a tentative hand in comfort. Astoria raised her head slightly, meeting Harry's affectionate gaze. Slowly she formed what looked like a smile, before it dissolved into a grimace. "GET AWAY FROM ME!" She yelled, "I'm... I'm a freak!" Astoria covered her eyes with her forearm and waved Harry away with the other.

Unbeknownst to Harry, Ron had sidled up next to him. "Harry?" Ron asked, to which Harry did not initially respond. "Harry, what the hell is going on here?" Ron continued to keep his gaze away from the crazed Astoria that lay before him. "I don't know. That should have killed one of us. No way had we the time to stop it." Harry said. "Oh great." Ron said. "Ron, think about it. She meant that Killing Curse," he said, echoing an old, long lost friend "she meant that. Why did it not work?" "I'm glad it didn't!" Ron shouted. Harry looked closely at Astoria, before saying, "You know what?" He turned to face Ron, to make sure he had his complete attention, "I'm not so sure I'm glad." Ron scoffed. "Ron, for goodness sake, think!" Harry said, with the uncomfortable realisation that he suddenly sounded like Hermione. "I know! OK! It's just I'd rather be alive to figure out why she can't do magic, than dead at her hand!" At this, Astoria burst into louder, far more hysterical tears.

"Astoria? Astoria, listen to me. Who did this?" Harry asked softly, amidst the crying. "A man with a thousand faces!" Astoria screamed, turning back to the discarded wand. "Well, that's cleared that up then." Ron said. "If you're going to be like this, Ron, get out. I mean it." Ron saw the look on Harry's face and immediately apologised. "But, seriously, what does she mean? A thousand faces?" Ron asked with more determination, "Maybe... maybe she didn't recognise him?" "That's it, Ron." Ron went slightly red when Harry said this. He was a talented Auror, but was never complimented over his problem solving - something he made up for by being particularly gifted at Wizarding Chess. "I-It is?" "Yeah, a man with a thousand faces - she's not saying that he has a thousand faces in the literal sense, she means that you couldn't pick him out in a thousand faces." "Oh, yeah, that's exactly what I meant."

"Look at me, Astoria. Look at me. Is that what you mean, you didn't recognise him?" Astoria continued to gaze at the wand, not answering, simply muttering words under her breath. "Here, let me take this..." Harry reached down for the wand, at which point Astoria grabbed him by the hem of his robes and dragged him so close he could feel her breath on his cheek. "Get off him!" yelled Ron, himself with wand in hand. "Don't!" Harry said, freeing a hand to hold up towards Ron. What Astoria said next, was fast and quiet. "He is coming! He is coming, Mr. Potter, son of Mr. Potter. The man with a thousand faces split in two! His power is invisible and terrible. Protection, preservation, purpose? Impossible! My only is dead, but my son is safe, that is what he said! Crimes! Penitence! These were the words he said over and over! Only he can stop himself!" With this, she let go of Harry and collapsed. Harry checked, and he was relieved that she had simply fainted from exhaustion. Something, however, gave Harry new concern. Around Astoria there he felt a vacuum, a suffocating nothingness that covered her entire body.

Ron looked shocked, more than Harry had ever seen. Harry remembered back to when Dolores Umbridge had accused a witch of stealing another's powers. It was false, a lie, of course, but he had always imagined that if it could happen, it would look something like this. "Harry... what is this? What is going on?" "I have no idea," Harry stood, keeping his gaze locked on the downed Mrs. Malfoy, "but whatever it is, I bet it has something to do with that bloody letter." Ron appeared to collect himself, as he declared: "We should split up. Search the rest of the manor." "Yeah..." Harry wasn't utterly convinced of this idea, but they had to find anything that could help lead to whoever did this and they didn't have much time to do it in. "I'll check upstairs." Ron quickly suggested which he acted on by immediately going up the flight of stairs leaving the main hall. Harry had a sneaking suspicion, which could understand, that Ron didn't want to check the dungeons where he had been imprisoned all those years ago.

Ron disappeared through a door, which Harry heard close on his way towards two grand doors that led - Harry knew - to Lucius Malfoy's study. For a second Harry felt a pang of concern about leaving Astoria alone in the main hall, though he quickly realised that it was necessity - there simply wasn't enough time to get somebody to get to the manor to oversee her. The double doors opened with ease. Harry pulled out his wand and whispered "Lumos." Instantly, the tip of the wand emitted a bright, luminescent glow that illuminated everything around him, while at the same time casting long shadows on the walls. The study was just how it had been all those years ago, seemingly untouched by Draco or Astoria, except for one little detail. The name 'Scorpius' was clearly engraved - crudely - in the wooden fireplace. Harry surmised that a young boy had come in, without his parents' permission, and done this. Harry smiled, the fact it hadn't been corrected formed a strange feeling of compassion for Draco as a father in his heart.

Harry continued around the deserted study, looking for anything that may enlighten the situation, and then he saw it. A letter, written only partially, lay on the desk adjacent to the wall. Harry picked it up, careful not to spill any more of the overturned ink pot. Bringing his wand closer, he began to read.



My dearest Draco,

I know things haven't been going so well recently, but you not being here is making it worse. Scorpius keeps asking for you, and I'm running out of excuses! Please, tell me where you are. I know you're angry with me, and I don't blame you. Harry - The letter dropped from Harry's grip as he read his own name. He gathered himself and continued. - is a good man. I didn't mean to be so cold when you told me. You have to understand, I don't like thinking like that! Nothing will happen to either of us, the world has moved on from the Dark Days. If this letter finds you, I hope you can find it in your heart to understand.

Please, Draco, please come back to us. My tears are blotting this page as I write. I am so angry with myself, and angry with you! I fear that Scorpius knows that I cry when I'm on my own. Write back, I beg of you, write

It was here that the overturned ink pot had made its mark. Whether or not there was more to be read underneath it was unclear, but something happened as she was writing it. Suddenly, Harry remembered his brief talk with Astoria at King's Cross. This is why she seemed so distant. Draco had left, and was out of communication. Letters in the wizarding world could find anyone, anywhere, obviously this is what Astoria would hope would happen with this letter. Before Harry could start to collect his thoughts he heard the distant, echoing screaming of his name. It was Ron.

Harry said "Nox!" and his wand went out immediately. He burst through the two doors and saw Ron leaning over the banister that ran alongside the second floor of the main hall. "What is it, Ron?" yelled Harry inquisitively. "I-It's Malfoy! He's here! I-I've never seen anything... just come up already!" Harry saw Ron vanish into the upper-right door on the second floor, as he bolted up the stairs. His heart was racing, his face drenched in fearful sweat. He had no time to contemplate what he was going to find. Harry entered the same door that Ron had and it opened into a long corridor that took a sharp left. Ron was nowhere to be seen, so Harry continued to run down the corridor, taking the turn and then - Ron was huddled next to an emerald green door. "Ron?" "In there... He's in there. Or," Ron looked up, whiter than a sheet "or what's left of him."

The doorknob to the room was gleaming platinum, with what appeared to be red specks spattered on it. Harry knelt down and realised it was blood - he had seen enough in his lifetime to know that. With a considerable degree of apprehension, Harry grasped the doorknob and turned it. Inside, the room was dark, the light from the corridor cast along the floor. The carpet of the room was a dark blue; Harry followed the beam of light from the outside and saw a disembodied leg emanating from the darkness. "Lumos" Harry said and - perhaps thanks to how he was feeling - the wand responded slowly. What the room looked like, Harry could not say, because the only thing he concentrated on was the white, sprawled shell of Draco Malfoy against the wall, a single dark crimson hole puncturing his forehead. Harry, without a second thought, put out his wand and left the room slamming the door shut - cursing loudly.

"What," started Ron "the hell was wrong with him?" Harry had leant against the wall with his arm above his head. "I've never seen anything like that! All that blood!" Harry looked sideways at Ron. "Well, Harry, what was that?" "Ron that was a gunshot wound." "A what?" "A gunshot wound." Harry repeated. "It's what happens when you point and fire a gun at someone." Ron looked absolutely disgusted. "A gun? You mean those small things that Muggles use to kill each other?" "The very same." "Bloody hell! If something like that can do something... bloody hell!" Ron trailed off. Harry looked despondent, "This proves it then. Muggles have found a way to rob us of our powers; they've found a way to find us - get in our world - and now they're coming en masse." Ron looked up. "So why did the letters seem so diplomatic, eh?" "I don't know," said Harry rasing his arm to check his watch, "but we should find out about... now."

With perfect precision, a large, light brown barn owl flew towards the window, pecking at the glass with some urgency. Harry walked over, opened it and received the letter attached to the owl's leg. Harry received an affectionate nip from the owl before it flew into the night, and Harry was painfully reminded of Hedwig, who had passed away a long time ago. "Ron, go back to the Ministry. Get everyone you can to come here. Ron, are you listening?" Ron looked up from his sitting place and quickly stood up. "Get everyone you can - recover Draco's body and get Astoria to St. Mungo's; they can do more for her. I hope." "Open that first." Ron said, pointedly. Harry was still frowning at Ron, but obliged. He opened the envelope and reached inside, where - in very rushed writing - he read out loud the short message.

"They're here."